


By Proxy

by the_ragnarok



Series: Proxy [3]
Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: BDSM, D/s, Impact Play, M/M, Multi, Spanking, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-19
Updated: 2016-03-19
Packaged: 2018-05-27 16:07:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 566
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6291025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_ragnarok/pseuds/the_ragnarok
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first few times they did this, John felt bad at this point, seeing Fusco give Harold what John can’t. But John <i>can</i>, he <i>is</i> giving it to Harold. He’s just doing it by proxy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By Proxy

It’s not the pain itself that does it for Fusco, John doesn’t think. He’d have thought that would make him snarl and fight rather than lie down and show his throat.   


“That fucking stung,” Fusco mutters.

As sweetly as he can, John says, “What was that?” Fusco, who was told in the beginning that each complaint will add ten strokes to his count, is silent. “Thought so,” John says, and resumes.

He uses a wooden ruler to deliver the hits. Using his hand is nice, too, but it gets sore too fast. John has a purpose, here, and he’ll need to get a pretty high count for it to work.

Fusco’s ass, thighs and his shoulders are already criss-crossed with red lines, and John’s efforts are starting to pay off. Even when Fusco does talk, it’s in a lower registered, a little bit slurred. John wonders if Fusco’s aware of that, wonders what making him aware of it will do.

“Is this really necessary?” Finch says in his ear. John takes a moment to sort out his tone - not impatient: fretful. 

“Don’t worry,” John says lightly. “Everyone’s having fun.” Fusco’s far gone enough that he doesn’t even take that cue. It warms John up inside.

There are ten strokes left on the count he gave Fusco. John delivers them without haste or delay, enjoying the rhythmic slap of wood on flesh, the way Fusco’s slumped down, taking it.

“All right, Harold,” John says. “We’re ready for you.” He’s not really surprised that the door opens almost immediately.

“Oh dear,” Harold says. He undoes the bindings around Fusco’s hands, rubbing them, checking the circulation. John doesn’t take that personally: it’s not a commentary on John’s safety protocols, Harold just likes to verify things himself. 

Fusco hisses and groans when Harold rubs lotion into his abused skin. John’s slightly entertained by the way Harold is visibly both aroused and chagrined by this. Slowly but surely, Fusco starts pushing up into Harold’s hands.

There’s something about the way Harold’s stance slowly becomes confident, about his voice losing its anxious edge as he murmurs reassurances to Fusco. John can’t look away from that.

Then Harold tests Fusco’s opening with two fingers. John watches with accomplished satisfaction as Fusco groans and lets him in like it’s nothing, spreading his thighs, greedy for anything Harold gives him. The first few times they did this, John felt bad at this point, seeing Fusco give Harold what John can’t.

But John _can_ , he _is_ giving it to Harold. He’s just doing it by proxy. So he can let warmth curl up in his belly, watching Harold’s face when he sinks into Fusco’s body, watch Harold tremble when Fusco moans for him.

Afterwards, Harold cleans Fusco up and covers him in a blanket. Then he walks to the shower, and John follows, shedding his clothes as he goes. Under the running stream of water Harold stands still and lets John soap him thoroughly. Harold understands this part better than John expected. “Like standing for a fitting,” Harold said the first time, brushing a familiar hand down John’s thigh. 

Once Harold’s clean, John closes the water, toweling Harold dry. Harold stops for just a minute before putting his clothes on, to clasp John’s hand and look him warmly in the eye, saying nothing.

Whatever you say of Harold, you can’t say he doesn’t accept gifts graciously.


End file.
